


The Lost Professor Scenerio

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 03:06:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair's plans for a special evening go awry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lost Professor Scenerio

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again to my wonder-sib, Thalasia, for her help! 

## The Lost Professor Scenerio

by Aramae

Author's disclaimer: Not my characters. Not my TV series. Just having fun. Thank you to all those who hold the real copyrights!   


  
Any remaining mistakes, typos, etc, are all my fault. And thank you to all who wrote about my first solo story here, "You Live In My Heart." I'm answering email as fast as I can. That story was sweet; this is a little more kinky. Enjoy! 

Warnings: Don't try this at home 

* * *

Blair sat in the darkness of the loft, handcuffed to the post, deliciously nude. He'd left his clothes upstairs on the bed. Getting the handcuffs around his own wrists hadn't been easy, but he'd managed. Hard rain beat down at the windows, and the jungle rhythms of his Amazon River CD thundered through the air as he waited on edge for his lover to return from work. Jim had promised to be home by eleven and Blair endeavored to make this night extra special to make up for all the long hours his lover had been putting in at the station. 

Sighing with pleasure at what lay ahead for them both, he leaned his head back against the hard post. A tiny itch nagged the center of his back and he twisted his shoulders against it. Before fixing himself in place, he'd showered with herbal soap. He'd smoothed Jim's favorite honey and almond oil into every inch of his skin. He'd let his hair dry naturally curly down his back, and rubbed himself to arousal before fixing himself into place. 

Not that just _thinking_ about Jim didn't excite him . . .quite the opposite. He could keep himself stimulated for hours thinking about the hard planes of his lover's body and remembering all the soft spots in between. All he had to do was recall the way Jim's warm skin rose to the softness of Blair's own lips during the hours they cuddled or made love and Blair's cock would jump, as it did now, waiting in gleeful anticipation.. 

The CD advanced a track, and in those few seconds of lulled music Blair heard the wind rattling the panes. Doubt began to creep into his mind. What if Jim brought Simon or one of the guys home from the station with him? The music was supposed to be Jim's clue, but after a long day maybe his lover wouldn't be paying attention on his way up. Blair knew better than to fix himself immobile without a means of escape, and he'd taped the handcuff key to the palm of his right hand for easy accessibility. But he certainly wasn't fast or dexterous enough to free himself should a handful of Cascade's finest suddenly appear in the doorway. . . 

The music started again, with drums beating against Blair's ears and sending a vibration along the hardwood floor to his naked ass. He relaxed. No _way_ Jim could miss that, man. He only wished he had his partner's Sentinel senses to hear Jim come up the stairs, to listen to his increasing heartbeat and breathing as he realized what a special adventure Blair had planned for them both. 

Until then he had only the music, the rain and his own amorous thoughts to keep him company. 

* * *

Jim trudged up the stairs wearily, cursing the broken elevator. After an unexpected all-night stakeout, all he wanted was to go to bed. His Sentinel hearing reached out and grabbed hold of thumping percussion music from above, and he wondered why the heck Blair had turned the stereo on this early in the morning with the sun barely up over the horizon. 

He slid his key into the lock and stepped inside to the blasting reverberations from the speakers. The first and only image he fixed on was the sight of his lover, naked and handcuffed to the center post, wearing the most miserable expression Jim had ever seen on a human being. The heat had switched off on a timer, leaving the loft with a distinct chill. Blair's eyes looked rimmed red with exhaustion, and dried tear tracks marked his face. Jim rushed to his side instantly. 

"Honey, what happened?" Jim asked anxiously, his voice high with concern, his hands automatically checking for injuries. Had someone done this to his lover? Left him here all night, restrained like this, as some sick message? "Blair, talk to me!" 

Blair leveled a furious glare at him. "Shut the music off!" 

"What?" Jim asked. He'd heard the words fine, but hadn't expected them. 

"SHUT IT OFF!" Blair yelled. 

Jim went to the stereo and slapped the power off. He looked back at Blair and his Sentinel vision caught the shiny sight of the handcuff key, wedged into a crack of the floor behind his lover. The scenario of what had really happened began to crash into his awareness. 

"Get me loose," Blair growled. 

Jim stood rock-still, fighting mightily against the urge to laugh out loud. 

"Jim!" Blair howled. He pulled uselessly at the cuffs. "Take these off!" 

Although Jim felt as if he had a thousand little Jims in him doubled over in hysteria, he obediently moved to unlock Blair's cuffs with what he thought was a reasonably straight face. Blair's misery was no laughing matter, but to think he'd gotten himself into this particular jam - 

"Chief, I'm sorry," Jim said. "I got called out at the last minute . . . I had no idea . . .I called, honest, and left a message! Just before midnight." 

"I know," Blair said through gritted teeth. "I heard! Didn't you think it was strange I didn't answer the phone?" 

"I thought you were asleep! You turned the phone down last night because you were so tired. I thought you might have done it again." 

The metal cuffs fell free. Jim attempted to rub Blair's reddened wrists, but the younger man would have none of it and pulled his arms away with a glare. 

Jim said, "Honest, honey, I had no idea you were here . . . " At that his straight face began to fail, and the corner of his mouth turned up. "...waiting for me." 

"It's not funny!" Blair choked out, and pulled himself to his feet. The movement made him sway, but he slapped aside Jim's helping hand. "Leave me alone!" 

With that he lurched off to the bathroom, Jim's "But Chief - " cut off in mid-air. Jim followed to make sure he made it safely, and all he got was the slam of the door in his face. 

"Blair - " he pleaded to the wood, but got no response. After a few seconds the shower came on. Jim backed away, mentally kicking himself. He shouldn't have let Blair know he thought this was funny in the least. The poor kid had been sitting there all night, listening to that same CD over and over, trapped by his own rash but erotic scheme. He was probably aching and sore and embarrassed as hell. Jim looked over and saw the blinking red light of the answering machine. He pictured Blair sitting handcuffed and swearing at the machine. It wasn't really Jim's fault that Blair had been here all night, was it? 

Fault didn't matter. At the moment, Blair hated Jim. Or hated himself. With a sigh aimed at the bathroom door, the Sentinel wondered how he was going to make up the unfortunate night to his wounded partner. 

* * *

No matter how hard Blair scrubbed beneath the hot stream of water, he couldn't erase the humiliation that felt permanently stamped onto his face. The hot water tank only held a finite amount of water, though, and when the stream started to turn cold he reluctantly shut off the faucets. He wrapped himself in layers of towels and his thick terrycloth robe. Although he considered the idea of taking up permanent residence in the bathroom he knew he'd have to go out for food and work eventually. He just didn't want to have to face Jim or the aftermath of his own foolishness so soon. 

He compromised by draping a towel over most of his head and face. He emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam with the express intention of going straight up to bed. Jim stood in the kitchen, drinking from a cup, but Blair refused to look directly at him. 

"Chief? You okay?" Jim asked. He sounded sympathetic, but Blair thought he could detect the humor underneath. Blair lifted his chin higher as he climbed the stairs. 

"I'm fine," he said firmly, flatly and falsely. Truth be told, eight hours of sitting on the floor had left him stiff and aching all over, and he could hear his bones creak with each step across the loft. Pain twinged through his back, and he considered crashing on the sofa or in his old room. Pride made him climb the stairs despite the discomfort. Once at the top, he saw that Jim had pulled down the sheets for him, left a hot microwaved pad by the pillow, and set up a bedside tray holding tea and thick slabs of toast. Blair's humiliation only grew. He climbed into bed and pulled the blanket straight up over his head. A few minutes later he heard Jim come up the stairs. His lover's side of the mattress sank. 

Jim's warm hand came to rest on Blair's thigh. "Was it the lost professor scenario?" Jim asked softly. 

"I don't want to talk about it," Blair answered tightly. 

Jim stayed silent for a full moment. "The one where I rescue you from the jungle natives?" 

"Shut up, Jim." 

"I like that one a lot." Jim crawled right into bed beside him, pressing the full length of his body against Blair's with only the blanket keeping them apart. "It would have been fabulous, baby. You were sweet to plan it." 

"Not sweet," Blair said. "Dumb. Stupid. Idiotic." 

"Why?" Jim asked. "We've done it before!" 

"I never dropped the handcuff key before," Blair sniffed, and then all of a sudden he was crying. He didn't mean to, but the hours of frustration and loneliness swept back over him like a tidal wave. "I was all alone and I couldn't get free, and what if you never came back, and that stupid music - " 

"Sssh, ssshh, it's okay," Jim said, and edged back the blanket to begin showering him with kisses. "I'm back. You're free. We'll work out something so the handcuffs won't lock next time." 

"But I like it when they lock," Blair said, between tears. 

"I know. But I don't want you to sit on the floor again, all alone, all night. Will you let me make it up to you?" 

Blair considered the idea. "Maybe," he hiccuped. 

Jim kissed him more, until the tears and hiccups both stopped and Blair felt better. "Just maybe?" Jim murmured, his hand working between Blair's legs. 

Blair shifted languidly beneath Jim's touch. "Well . . . okay. You can make it up to me." 

"Great!" Jim sat up with a shit-eating grin on his adorable face. "I'll go put on some mood music!" 

"Asshole," Blair scowled, pinching his arm, and Jim eagerly begin the apology process all over again. 

**THE END**

* * *

End The Lost Professor Scenerio. 


End file.
